Second Place
by fruitloops2117
Summary: "This doesn't change a thing. I'll still be the one to catch kira in the end." i state firmly, the entire task force now focusing their attention on the two rivals. "We'll see about that Sinclair. In the mean time fetch me a slice of cake, will you?" suddenly the atmosphere tensed. "You little…" "What?" L raised one eyebrow in an I-dare-you fashion… find out what happens next.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I sat cross-legged in the booth at the back of the airport café, just letting life drift pass me as I immersed myself in the paperback I was reading. It's an excellent read actually, perfect for me. It's called The Psychology of Proof: Deductive Reasoning in Human Thinking, I had been working on it for the past two days, none stop, not caring about the dry ache that was prominent in both my eyes.

I paused, looking up from the size ten font, seeing my dad making his way over to the booth, discussing this months stock increase into his Bluetooth, his black suit ironed crisp and clean, his shoes shined to mirror like standards and his black hair slicked back with a frightening amount of gel. Jip. That was my dad, CEO millionaire and natural born businessman. His handsome, but no-shit serious features got results and a net worth of…_cough…couch…_not _exactly _your business now is it?

As my dad finished up his one sided conversation with some poor old soul on the other line, he slid into the booth across the table and ran his fingers through his hair, a sign of obvious stress and financial strain of some sort.

"Was that the new guy, Jerry?" I asked my grim faced dad who grunted in response, he was always the silent type, that's what mom said at least.

"If you need a job done, its best to just do it yourself. I'm telling you." Mumbled my dad, mostly to himself. I smiled at that, it was…_interesting_ to see someone love their job so much. If there was one thing my dad loved doing, it was making money and he was damn good at it too.

After I completely devoured my red velvet cupcake and chugged down my pink lemonade I asked my dad if I could take a look around, seeing as his gourmet omelet and espresso had just arrived, and he said I could. I had been in many different airports all around the world by now and there wasn't anything that was too exciting about a million and one gift stores all in one place, but I really needed to stretch my legs, so why not?

Committing the page number I was on to memory and placing the paperback in my satchel, I skipped through the building, letting my thoughts drift into a land of yellow tape and evidence lockers, passing the same flower cart four times before stepping into the cutest little sweet shop.

It was small, the enclosed arrangement of shelves, stocked with variations of candy, gave it more of cozy feel to it. The colorful rappers and packaging made it out to be whimsical and created the illusion of Willy Wonka's Chocolate factory. Somehow even with all the colors, the shop made me think of the color yellow, as if that made sense.

Walking through the narrow aisles, searching for something I could chew on later on the flight. I had already made my way through half of what they stocked, hands still empty, I swear I just passed a pair of beat up tennis shoes, but chose to ignore it and I came across a rainbow lollipop that spiraled flat onto a stick, I love those little suckers! Lifting the biggest one out from the shelf and turning around to pay, than came to an abrupt halt.

**Where the hell did my lollipop go?**

Looking around for the runaway cavity on a stick, then hearing the distinct crackling of rapper plastic I turned my gaze upwards and… to my complete surprise, saw a boy, maybe a year or two older than me perched up on the shelf in a crouch position, _my _lollipop held by the tip of the stick between his lanky forefinger and thumb, the clear rapper discarded onto the floor.

At first I couldn't get a word out, his strange presence caught me off guard, watching dumbfounded as he scrutinized the sweet before giving it an immense _lick._

"Excuse me?" I said to the strange boy, he turned his gaze to me, his expression blank, "I believe that was _mine_." I said, feeling really annoyed because of this strange person's behavior.

Then without a word he hopped off of the shelf and landed only a meter away from me, the lollipop's round edge in his mouth, which annoyed me even more as I surveyed his appearance. The lanky form in front of me must really hate outdoors, because his skin was in a neck in neck competition with his white long sleeve shirt which morphed into a simple blue jeans that hung from his skinny hips, no shoes. My gaze than moved to his face and I found myself mesmerized by a pair of onyx orbs that were half hidden by his midnight strands of hair, that looked like they never touched a brush since birth. And his posture! Absolutely terrible.

Without saying a word the stranger took a step closer to me, than another and another and eventually our faces were mere inches apart. This didn't bother me really, I was never a cluster phobic so I didn't see a reason to be one now.

"Terribly sorry." The stranger muttered, lifting his hand to my face, placing his forefinger on the bridge of my thick black framed glasses and pushed them upwards, more secured on my nose.

I swallowed hard, "Thank you." I felt a blush creep into my cheeks, I already had three accidents involving my glasses slipping off my nose and it shattering. The stranger then turned away from me and walked back down the aisle and placed his bare feet in the pair of beat up tennis shoes, no socks required, apparently.

Then turning back, he held the sweet sucker out towards me, his head tilted, "Do you still want this?" he asked in a monotonous, pubic voice that cracked quite distinctly at the end of the question.

I shook my head, "No no, I've changed my mind. You keep it." I replied quite quickly, the thought of swapping spit with this stranger did not bring a smile to my face, no, not even close. So instead I reach for a chocolate bar and he shrugged, licking the lollipop with anticipation. Our eyes locked and we stared at each other far longer than we should have and than I finally break the silence, "What?" now completely irritated.

He replied slightly cocking his head to the side, "Aren't you going to pay?" one hand stuffed in his pocket one holding the stick of the lollipop.

"Aren't _you_?" I replied, hoping to catch the stranger off guard, but he remained indifferent, striding over to the punk girl with electric blue hair that stood behind the cash register and handed her some money and whispered her something I couldn't quite make out and then he was out the door without a glance back in my direction.

Sighing I stepped up to the cash register and reached for my satchel when the girl with the blue hair stopped me, "No need, that guy you were just talking to paid for yours as well." She said, to my complete amazement.

"Really?" I had to ask, unsure whether I heard her correct or not.

"Err…Yeah…" the girl replied in a slow unsure tone, as if questioning her own hearing.

Surprised and taken aback, I peered through the glass of the door to see if I could spot the strange boy who had paid for my flight snack, but couldn't spot him from inside the shop. "Err…well I guess I'll go then?" I let my words hang in the air, putting the chocolate in my satchel, walking out of the shop, leaving the confused girl and scanned the perimeter for the boy with the oversized wallet. Finally spotting him at an accessory cart, trying on different sunglasses. I stalked over there pulling out some money from the wallet in my satchel, readying it.

"Hey, what's your name?" I asked a few steps away from him, his back facing me. I got no answer, so I continued "You didn't _have _to pay for _my _expense. I get along quite fine, thank you." More than fine actually, which is why I never felt comfortable taking other peoples money.

The strange boy turned around to face me; a pair of round red frames concealed his hypnotic gaze, the sucker still in his hand and every so often he would relish in its sugary goodness. "Do you now?" he questioned and without answer I held the money out towards him, expecting him to take it, but with no such luck. "It was quite obvious that your family is well off." Taking the red sunglasses off at this statement, his onyx gaze settling on my face "Your custom Bentley glasses and Marc Jacobs bag, made it quite clear."

Wait…he deduced that I my dad had money? Why would he open his wallet to someone who clearly didn't need it?

"Well, here." I pushed the money towards him, but he only stared at it.

"It's really not a problem." He said, but it only irritated me more, "If it was I wouldn't have done it in the first place." Added as an after thought, sensing my irritation.

"Well…" I began, but seized as his gaze widened in a curious manner, "…um…thank you." I said and he gave a short brisk nod and went back to surveying the sunglasses.

"Um…what's your name?" I asked, with genuine interest.

Without turning to face me he replied, "Tom." His croaky voice quite prominent now.

"Nice to meet you, Tom. I'm Peyton." I said politely, Tom now taking quite an interest in a pair of aviators, which suit him quite well actually, but placed them back on the rack after a thorough inspection and turning to face me. He mouthed my name, bringing his thumb to his lips all while staring wide eyed at the ground.

His gaze lifted a bit higher, but not by much then said "That's an interesting book you're reading there." I traced his gaze to my satchel, which had the spine of The Psychology of Proof: Deductive Reasoning in Human Thinking peaking out of the unzipped slit.

"Yeah, it's actually really good." I said, blushing a bit, feeling embarrassed that my weird obsession was now out in the open.

"You like solving puzzles?" he asked, I wasn't sure if he was genuinely interested or wanted to avoid an awkward silence, due to his indifference to the subject.

"Yeah, I do." I said rather defensively.

"Interesting." Tom replied in deep thought.

"Peyton?" I turned around to see my dad taking long quick strides in our direction, "Peyton, why aren't you answering your cell phone, I've been calling you for the past…" my dad stopped mid sentence, spotting the strange silhouette that was Tom and eyed him curiously, "Oh…Peyton who is _this_?" his voice laced with obvious dissatisfaction at the thought of his only teenage daughter talking to a strange teenage _boy_, or any boy for that matter.

"Dad this is Tom." I said in a rushed breath, not sure how my dad would react, "Tom this is my dad, Richard Shire." There were a few seconds of stony silence between the two males, my dad scrutinizing Tom's strange appearance.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Shire." Tom said, breaking the silence.

"Peyton, our flight leaves in eight minutes," turning his attention back to me, "…we have to go _now_." He said, stepping aside to let me walk pass him.

"Err…okay, dad." I reply quite awkwardly, taking a few steps than turning to face Tom, "Do you have an email address? I can give you mine? We could…" I withheld my last few words, sensing my dad's disapproval, Tom staring at me with his wide gaze, I noticed a nervous twitch that was so small it could have been non existent.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible." He stated slowly.

"Oh…" my face fell, but my dad's seemed to brighten up a bit, which made me wonder if it wasn't my dad's sudden presence that caused a shift in Tom's behavior, "…That's okay." I said and turn to walk away, "Bye, Tom." I said waving goodbye to him over my shoulder. If he reacted in anyway, I didn't see it, mostly because my dad was rushing me along to get to our flight and partially because I was a little disappointed that he had denied me his contact info. It was nice just talking to someone close to my age, I didn't have any friends because of all the travelling and even when we weren't I was homeschooled, so by now I was a really shy thirteen-year-old girl who loved to read and never socialized with anyone.

My dad and I were now in an airplane, three hundred and fifty thousand feet above sea level on our way to America. We flew business class and I was staring blankly out the window. Tom almost completely forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: sorry if the writing sucks, I'm tired and bored and I forgot to do the disclaimer in my last chapter so here it is…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own death note or any of the characters in it accept the oc. SHE'S MINE! MWAHAHAHAHA**

**AGAIN I APOLOGISE IF THE WRITING IS HORRIBLE ITS THREE IN THE MORNING AND I'M AN INSOMINIAC!**

Chapter 2

"Pull over! This is the police and we request that you _pull over_!" shouted the LAPD officer from his standard police vehicle, that was now racing down the open highway next to me in a high speed chase, two more tailing me from the back. I really could do without this.

"Oh _screw _it!" I yelled back, the officer's shocked face brought an untamable smirk to my lips as I pushed down on the gas peddle with doubled force, the red Volvo shooting over the street in a crimson blur, leaving the three police cars trailing hopelessly. It really is nothing more then a misunderstanding, honest.

Almost there…I made a left turn and then a right into the alley, the wheels on my Volvo screeched to a halt.

"_Fuck_." The vulgar curse slipped from my lips with good reason. The sight before me was enough to drive me to the breaking point. The whiteness of my knuckles were prominent on the steering wheel. I was angry, no, I was _beyond _angry!

Right in front of the building I was parked at, was a police car, an ambulance and a fire truck, the building webbed in yellow police tape. The scent of passing ashes filled the air as I stepped out of my car as I observed the scenario. Conclusion…

"…L…" was all I could manage through teeth grinding against each other in hopes of calming my rage. It could only be him, Coil and Deneuve were too far behind to deduce were the suspect was going to commit suicide. It was only L and I who read between the lines.

L had beat me to the scene and now I would remain ranked as the fourth greatest detective in the world…for now at least. One day I _will_ be number one and L would be forever forgotten. I know, I might sound incredibly competitive, but I am! All my life I've only wanted to do one thing. And that was to solve crimes and bring criminals to lawful justice. Which I have, but it would be even more fulfilling to know that I am the best at what I do.

"Hey! What are you doing here? Can't you see…"

"I'm not _blind_." Cutting the young officer off quite harshly, I pulled my Private Investigator license from my coat pocket, only letting him see it for a split second before putting it away again. I could see the wheel's turning in his head, the results were a shocked expression and a stuttered apology.

"You're…you're Sinclair? But…but you're a…a…"

"Girl?" I finished, raising an eyebrow at the young officer. His sexist chauvinistic statement, clearly left me indifferent. By now I had gotten quite used to the sexist world we all live in.

The front doors of the building burst open and out came a young woman, with dark hair, dressed from head to toe in black, talking into a cell phone, _how discrete_. Her name was Naomi Misora and she was the one who had worked under L, to solve this case. Obviously she was having a discussion with L over the phone in the current situation.

Following after her was a paramedic, pushing the very suspect on a gurney. He looked terrible, skin black and red and shriveled because of the fire that he so willingly threw himself into. I was disgusted by him, not because of his deformed figure, but because of all the ruthless murders he had committed in a sort of sadistic bohemian artist kind of way. Rue Ryuzaki, obviously an alias, he had even 'worked' with Naomi.

I kept a watchful eye on the female investigator as she hang up the phone and tucked it onto her pocket. Then I walked in her direction, taking a few quick strides, then bumping smack into her.

"Oh _shit_! I am sooo sorry!" I exclaimed in an exasperate high-pitched voice, "I am _such_ a cluts." I continue, but Misora shrugs it off and walks on in the direction of the officer I was chatting to earlier.

Ducking behind a dumpster I pulled out Misora's cell phone that I had switched with mine only a second ago. I dialed the first number on the call log and waited. It rung twice before someone answered.

"Naomi." Came a synthetic voice.

"_Wrong_, but I'll let you take another guess." I stated confidently.

"Sinclair. I was wondering when I'd ever get the pleasure to have you on the other line again." I detected a hint of smugness in the synthetic voice, my temper flared.

"L, you've beaten me yet again."

"Do not worry, you'll have plenty of opportunities to have a _try_ at evening the score…"

"And I _will_!" I couldn't hold my temper anymore, four years and I couldn't get past fourth place, "_This_ is the last time I lose to _you_ L."

"If I recall correctly, you said the same thing after our last case." I felt the blood rush to my face out of sheer embarrassment, because it was one hundred percent true, "You remember don't you?"

"_This_ time the odds were in your favor." I state, trying to change the subject from me to him, there's a pause and then…

"What _exactly _do you mean?"

"We both know, you and Ryuzaki, or whatever his name is, are connected in more ways then one."

"Care to elaborate?" L shoots back, indifferent.

"It all seems too…coincidental, that the murderer happened to be working under the detective investigating the murders. Doesn't it?"

"It would seem…" he trails off mid sentence as if deep in thought, but changes the subject quickly, "It was nice speaking to you Sinclair, I do hope we can do this again." Then hangs up.

"Wha…?" shocked I lower the phone away from my ear.

"I believe this is yours." I whipped myself around to face the owner of the voice, which belonged to the one and only Naomi Misora. She had one hand on her hip and one curled around _my_ cell phone, holding it up for observation.

"Yes, _thank_ you." My voice nothing less then sarcastic, I swiped the phone from her, not returning hers just yet.

"Then would you kindly return mine?" she asks, with obvious irritation.

"Sure, whatever." I toss her the cell phone and proceed in unwrapping one of the many watermelon lollipops I keep in my pockets and pop it into my mouth. "Tell your boss to watch his back."

The next day, L's latest and best case was dubbed The LA BB murder case.

**This ones a little short, but it was necessary. I think you guys get the idea of the relationship between L and Peyton/Sinclair. Btw "Tom" was an alias that L used in the first chapter for obvious reasons and L is two years older then Peyton and in this chapter she is twenty one which means L is twenty three. I have lot's of exciting things planned so please keep reading and reviewing. XD**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Notes: Peyton is no longer the narrator of the story, because I find writing from her perspective quite tedious and I'm sorry I couldn't update last week, I'm in the middle of writing exams and I didn't have the time, but it's here so please enjoy and please leave me some lovely reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own death not or any of the characters, BUT hands off the oc I created her, she's MINE!**

**This chapter takes place a year later.**

Chapter 3

"I didn't do nothin'."

"Henrico, we both know that's not true." Sinclair stated, calm and indifferent, currently in the middle of interrogating Henrico Gomez, a suspect of multiple rapes and murders, but so far he wouldn't confess to anything and her patience was wearing thin.

"Look I didn't do anything!" Henrico was a nervous wreck, he hadn't looked the lady detective in the eye since the interrogation started, he changed his story every time he was asked about any of the rapes and murders, his leg was bouncing off the floor and his hands were underneath the desk.

_What a goof._ Was all Sinclair could think, she had enough evidence to pin him for raping nine girls between the ages of ten and fourteen and for killing six of them. All she needed was a confession.

"Henrico, just admit it was you. I have enough evidence to sentence you to death."

"_Fu-ck_ you." he said every word slowly, hoping the detective would be caught off guard, of course she wasn't.

Sinclair sighed heavily and turned her gaze to the one-way mirror, "Then I'm afraid you've left me no choice." A split second later two men; both fairly built, burst into the room.

The first, with dark brown hair and stubble, flipped the table over where Henrico and Sinclair were seated at, it hit the wall with a load bang. Then the second, who was bald, punched the suspect square in the nose, who fell to the floor, whimpering through a bloody nose.

The two men then proceeded to tie Gomez to a chair and take turns beating him, all the while Sinclair standing in the background, serenely sucking on a watermelon flavored lollipop.

After a few minutes, Sinclair orders the two men to stop and step aside. Gomez is quietly weeping, beaten bloody and senseless. The young lady detective walks over to him, bending down to face him and then says again, "Henrico Gomez, did you or did you not force yourself onto nine girls, slaughtering more than half of them?"

At first Gomez is silent and doesn't even look at Sinclair, but then nods his head, slowly and unsure.

"Yes?" Sinclair queried.

Gomez nods his head for a second time.

"Yes you did or yes you didn't" Sinclair could be ruthless at times, and it would seem now was one of those times.

"I…I did it." Gomez said in a low monotonous barely audible voice.

"_What_ did you do, Enrico Gomez?" she was milking it, but with reason. That reason may or may not be good, but reason nonetheless.

"I fucking _raped_ and _killed_ all those bitches! Okay? I fucked every single one of those girls and I loved it! But you know what was better? Cutting them up and watching them bleed. So kill me if you want! I'll die a happy man." He finished off with a smirk, the two men who were now standing behind Sinclair were dumbstruck at his confession.

"Hmm…" was all the detective could manage at first, but quickly regained her words, she said, looking straight into Gomez's eyes, "You don't deserve death." then Sinclair stood and made her way out the door.

"Wait what?" Gomez yelled after her "Come back here you, FUCKING BITCH!" whether he truly meant it when he said he would happily take the death penalty, didn't matter to Sinclair, it wasn't her style and it definitely was not justice. No one not even the scum on this planet deserved to die before his or her time.

The accomplished detective stood and watched through the one-way glass, as the two men handcuffed the guilty suspect.

"He's a sick bastard, you know." Andrew Thomas, who worked under Sinclair on this case, said from beside her.

"Just doing my job." She replied indifferent. Andrew had seen the entire scene unfold and he was impressed, his infatuation with the young detective had definitely been with good reason.

"You did good." He praised. Sinclair was not oblivious to Andrew's 'little crush', it was quite obvious really, but this saddened her. Andrew was good and young and handsome and completely not her type.

"Thank you." That was all she could say, then after a few seconds added, "What is it Andrew?"

"What?" the word came out spluttered and clumsy, much like how a child would say when his or her mother found them doing something they weren't suppose to be doing.

"Something's bothering you." The young lady had definitely noticed how the young man beside her had been ringing his hands over and over again, something, she had learned, he did when he was nervous.

"Err…it's nothing really." He stated, but she was not convinced.

"Andrew…" she sighed.

"Could-I-take-you-out-to-dinner-tonight?" his words came out rushed and strangely high pitched.

"I'm sorry I didn't catch that?" she actually had caught it, every single hurried word, but she hoped that if she acted like she hadn't heard him, he would just drop it.

"I would love to take you to dinner, tonight." He said slowly, not sure how the girl would react.

"It's not possible, I…" she didn't have a reason, besides that she could never think of him in a romantic way, "…I…I'm sorry." She wished she didn't have to do this, but she could never endanger somebody else's life for nothing more then selfish emotional and sometimes physical gratification.

"Oh," Andrew was disappointed, but he had prepared himself, he knew it was a long shot, even his best friend Ted had said she was out of his league, "That's okay."

"Andrew you're terrific, but my profession doesn't exactly allow…'relationships'." Sinclair added trying to make the young man feel better.

"No it's fine, I understand."

"Good"

**Please with a cherry on top review, I'm going to try and update in the middle of the week. **

**Chapter 4 preview: Sinclair/Peyton hears about Kira over the news and knows L will take this case. What will she do? **


	4. Chapter 4

**I am so sorry I haven't updated for so long, first my mom took away my laptop because she said that I was getting distracted from my exams, then our wifi wasn't working and then my laptop CRASHED so now I am working from my friends iPad. *sigh* clearly the universe doesn't want me writing fan fiction.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own death note or any of the characters in it, accept the oc. **

Chapter 4

Peyton sat in a chair, at a table, in her kitchen of her New Yorken apartment, plunged deep into the depths of Jane Austin's Pride and Prejudice, contemplating the meaning of love.

She sighed, deeply upset at the realization of her loveless, lonely life.

Stop it! she thought to herself, You're being stupid. You new exactly what you signed yourself up for when you became a detective five years ago. She mentally slapped herself for getting so upset over something she decided was so trivial only a few years ago. She shook herself out of her depressing stupor and decided a long hot shower would make her feel better.

A half an hour later, a now tranquil and slightly pink-skinned, Peyton stepped out of the shower, room filled with steam. Rapping herself in a fluffy white towel, she then proceeded to brushing her teeth over the sin. After gargling and spitting, she took a few seconds to look at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink from the heat, brightly-dyed red hair framed her heart-shaped face, wet strands sticking to her shoulders, soft supple lips and big brown doe eyes, that she strongly disliked. She was quite pretty, but she tried not to be because she was afraid that people may not take her seriously in her profession.

After settling into a pair of comfy pajamas, Peyton happily plopped herself onto the coach, book in hand, but before she could pick up on the first sentence her cell phone rang. Without hesitation she flipped open the mobile.

"Peyton speaking." Since it was her personal cell phone, she didn't have to worry about her identity being found.

"Peyton, dear how are you?" It was her aunt Millicent, the retched old thing, Peyton did not have a single good memory of her. She was a bossy, snobby, gold digging hag, who spoiled her daughter far too much, married three times over and adopted a poor girl all the way from Japan a year ago to impress her tea drinking, crumpet eating country club friends. She has never been nice to Peyton as a child. Growing up she would call her niece odd, awkward, socially impaired and doomed to die alone. So why after nearly eight years was she calling her now?

"Aunt Millicent?" The bewildered girl questioned.

"The same."

"Is something wrong?" did you obtain cancer and only have two weeks left to live? She added only in her heard, snickering at her own joke.

"No not at all." She said in a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Then what is it?" Peyton question, partially suspicious.

"I just called to inform you that Julia, Anna and I are going to be in town the day after tomorrow and are planning to stop by." Said aunt Millicent.

"Is that so?" Peyton queried, now fully suspicious of her aunt.

"Yes dear, we'll see you then."

"Can't wait." She replied in a bored tone.

"Take well, ta-ta."

"Ta-ta, aunt Millicent." They greeted each other, then both hung up the phone, almost too eager too get off the line.

Peyton sighed. She now had to book the first flight to London, because when aunt Millicent said she was going to stop by, she had meant at Shire Manor, where Peyton Shire supposedly 'lived'.

What is your motive, Millicent?

The next morning Peyton was on a flight back 'home', it was a horrid experience to say the least. She had had to put up with the most annoying flight hostess on the planet, she kept trying to get her autograph or take a sneaky picture and kept trying to pass over non complimentary items as free, because she had mistaken Peyton for someone famous, even after she denied the accusations. Safely on the ground she made her way straight out of the airport, not needing to claim any luggage since she travelled light and only carried a single duffle bag with enough necessaries for a few days. Once outside Peyton scanned the perimeter for a familiar face.

"Excuse me madam?" Said a very British male.

"Excuse you, but I am no madam."

"Right you are champ."

She gasped only then realizing with whom she was talking to. She practically pounced on the male figure, who willingly accepted the embrace with eagerness.

"Dad!" She exclaimed.

"How are you my little angel, my god have you grown." The last time Richard Shire had seen his daughter was a few months ago on her twenty second birthday.

"I missed you too dad." She said softly into his shoulder. Father and daughter now reunited. During the ride home Peyton and Her father tried catching up a bit, they talked about Richard Shire's business and Peyton's life in New York.

"So is there anyone special?" The dreaded question that she was hoping to avoid, finally came up.

"No, not really dad." She stated, lowering her gaze in embarrassment.

"Not yet?" He asked, surprised that his daughter as beautiful and smart as she is had no man in her life.

"You know what dad, I think I'm just waiting for the right person." She stated a little more confidently, even though it was a lie, in fact she wasn't looking or waiting, she was hoping though, but she would not permit herself to, Sinclair was constantly in danger and she couldn't bare the thought of endangering someone else's life as well.

"Well, don't make me wait too long. I want to be able to kill him first for even thinking of my daughter in a lesser than appropriate way." Richard declares and they both laugh.

The rest of the ride home is peaceful and Peyton is glad the topic never arises again.

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter and please stay tuned I am officially on holiday and will be updating regularly.**


	5. Chapter 5

**and this is where it al begins XD...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own death note or any of the characters in it...accept the oc and her crazy family members.**

Chapter 5

"Welcome home, Miss Shire." Said their faithful chauffeur, Charles, as they neared a large double set gate.

"It's good to be home, Charlie." replied Peyton, feeling a twinge of guilt, she was after all _just_ visiting, but her dad didn't know that.

After passing through the gates they continued down a dusty gravel path, that circled around the Cupid and psych fountain and came to a halt in front of the Victorian style manor. It was a lovely estate, rising three stories high, with its stone walls and arched windows it remained a charismatic nostalgic home, for it's inhabitants, especially for those who often had to sleep in hotel beds.

The car slowed and came to a stop, Charles politely proceeded to open the car door for his employer and his daughter.

Peyton let out a prolonged sigh as she stepped out of the black car, "Lavender." Her favorite.

"Can I take your bags Miss?" Charles politely offered.

"Umm...no thank you Charlie, it's just this one." she replied, cocking the duffel bag on her shoulder. Peyton and her dad stepped onto the porch and into the house, the ceiling of the entrance hall rose high, a round mahogany table with a decorative sunflower situated in the middle, marble flooring and wide set staircase that lead to the second floor.

"I'll let you settle in princess, I'll be in my study if you need me." Typical, she thought, work was all her dad _really_ thought about.

"Okay dad." She replied, not too fazed, it was custom by now, and made her way up the stairs and onto to the second floor. The familiar surroundings weighting her chest with nostalgia as she made her way down the passage and stopped at the last door on the left.

She smirked down at the finger print scanner situated were the door handle was supposed to be, Peyton had always been a secretive soul. She remembered putting this entire thing together on her thirteenth birthday, stating that she was now a teenager and needed her privacy. Mr. Shire was not at all happy when the maid quit after getting quite ferociously shocked for trying to get into her room. Peyton had of course just shrugged it off.

Placing her thumb in the scanner, there was a distinct _beep _and the door unlocked, allowing her into her old room. The walls were a crisp white, one wall was completely aligned with bookshelves. The rest of the room occupied by a four poster bed, a wardrobe, a desk with a computer and a bulletin board and a large arch window that over looked the backyard.

Leaving her shoes and duffel bag at the door, she shuffled her way over the carpet and to her bed, plopping down onto the mattress, she was jet lagged and quite tired.

"To bad I can't stay like this forever" she thought aloud, before letting her thoughts drift into space.

The next morning Peyton woke up to the bright sun invading her space. She let out a sleepy groan and pulled the covers over her head, determined to go back to sleep.

A few minutes later the sleepy girl was yet again disturbed by a persistent tapping at the door.

"Peyton, honey." It was her dad.

"Urg...what is it dad?" She groaned sleepily from her place in the bed.

"I just wanted to remind you that your aunt Millicent and your cousin Julia are going to be joining us for brunch." Richard continued from his side of the door, but there was no answer from his daughter, just silence "Princess?"

"Hmm? Yeah...brunch...Julia...aunt Millicent...got it." She mumbled into her pillow.

"What was that?!" He hadn't caught a single word, all he got was a few grunts and mumbles.

"Dad! I will be down in a few minutes." She whined at the door.

"Okay, don't go back to sleep." Peyton could almost make out a warning tone in his voice, but didn't take it too seriously, because she shrunk back under the covers as soon as her dad's footsteps were heard down the hall...

When Peyton awoke again, she was well rested enough to let her head peek out from under the covers and stole a glance in the clocks direction...

"SHIT!" It was nine fourth two already? Aunt Millicent was going to be here any minute now!

She shot out of bed so fast that she stumbled over her own to feet and fell face first into the carpet on her way to the bathroom.

"Ow . . . " she moaned, but shot back up in an effort to get cleaned up and dressed before her aunt arrived. Finally she made it in the shower and came out clean and ever-fresh, of course she nearly slipped on her way out, but she was clean nonetheless! She dressed hastily in a dark blue sundress, camel sleuth coat and black combat boots, it was a strange combination, but she hadn't even considered matching when getting dressed. Half way out the door she noticed something strange...every thing was all fussy...HER GLASSES! She turned back around and grabbed her large thick black framed glasses and put them on.

_DING DONG_

"Holy shit!" that was the door bell! She sprinted out the room, through the passage, down the stairs and then fell about seven steps off the ground, landing in a heap of red hair and creased clothing on the ground.

"Shit." She groaned.

"Oh dear." It was aunt Millicent, her looming silhouette cast a dreary shadow over her disgraceful niece.

Peyton clumsily got back up on her feet, wobbling a bit before gaining stability, "Aunt Millicent! How are you?" she said in a high pitched voice which reflected her embarrassment at the situation.

Millicent gave her niece a disapproving stare, with her arms crossed and her lips pressed into a firm line. Heesh, she had aged quite a bit since the last time Peyton had seen her, her blonde hair was streaked with grey, her cold blue eyes that burnt into your soul were tired and had bags and her face was slightly more wrinkled.

Peyton felt the blood rush to her cheeks at the embarrassment of being lectured through her aunt's eyes alone.

There was quite a bit of snickering and the word "Freak" being muttered from behind aunt Millicent. Peyton had to crane her head to see pass her aunt, and standing there was her cousin Julia, the spoiled 'IT' girl. She had long dark brown hair and ice blue eyes and was curvy in all the right places, she wore a floral print dress that stopped mid-thigh and black stilettos and was the same age as Peyton. Ever since they were little they despised each other.

Standing next to Julia, was a girl, probably fourteen or fifteen, with cropped black hair and Japanese features, she wore a simple black skirt and purple blouse.

"This must be Anna." The red head tried breaking the awkward silence by changing the subject.

"No shit Sherlock." Comments the she-devil that is Julia.

"Hmm? Yes, Anna this is my...uh...niece, Peyton Shire And her father Richard Shire." Aunt Millicent gestures to her brother in law who is now standing beside his daughter.

"My name is _Suki_." Whines 'Anna' from behind aunt Millicent, who angrily whips around and glares at the adolescent girl, who averts her gaze in shame.

"We already talked about this! Your name IS Anna! I adopted you and I named you!" Millicent shouts at the poor Japanese girl, who looks down at the ground to avoid her 'mother's' death glare.

"Hey Suki? Would you like to help me with tea?" Aunt Millicent now fuming, turns to Peyton, arms crossed. Suki just stares at the red head with wide eyes, almost in adoration.

"Dont in courage her freak." Julia perks up, then smirks at her nemesis' attire, "Dont the labels go _inside _the clothing?"

"What?" Peyton scratches her head in confusion, then looks to Suki, who points to her blouse and then to Peyton's chest. "Oh, the labels." She mumbles and then blushes pro furiously when she finally discovers that her dark blue dress is inside out and on the wrong way around.

"Melancholy." Comments aunt Millicent at the site of it.

Julia snickered some more and Peyton looks to Suki who was trying desperately not to laugh and then she does the unthinkable. Without knowing what came over her, Peyton pulled her sleuth coat from her shoulders, dropping it to the floor and then pulled her dress over her head, exposing her black lace bra and panties.

Julia gasps, Suki averts her eyes, Millicent arches an eyebrow and her dad comments "Peyton this is highly inappropriate!" He shields his eyes in embarrassment. Then the half naked girl proceeds in redressing herself, this time the dress right side out.

"Well," Peyton begins after slipping back into her coat, "...I believe we were going to sit down to brunch."

After everyone is seated at the table, occupied by fine china and various treats and breakfast foods, in the backyard patio, the real reason why Aunt Millicent and her daughters were here in the first place was because Julia was engaged, and needed a 'donation' for her wedding dress. The nerve of some people.

"See the ring?" Julia flashes her left hand in front of Peyton's face, the large diamond shimmering when caught in the sunlight,"This may be the only time you'll see one in real life." She comments quite ruthlessly.

Peyton frowns, "You know what they say," she starts and Julia looks at her with curiosity, "...the bigger the diamond the smaller the D." Suki bursts out laughing and tries covering it up with her hand, Peyton smirks at her cousin who gasps at the comment.

"At least I get some action, you're still a virgin." she says the word like its a filthy curse with her nose turned up and scrunched.

Suki has stopped laughing now and looks to Peyton who's face is redder than a tomato. "Admit it, you've never even been with anyone." Julia continues to belittle her cousin.

"I'm perfectly fine on my own thank you. Unlike some people I don't need a man to be happy." She states confidently, even though she could feel her ego withering up like a wilted daisy.

"You've never even _kissed _a guy, have you?" Peyton looks around and starts muttering incoherently, "Oh. My. Fucking. God. You haven't!" And Julia bursts into a fit of laughter.

"So what?" She states, but Julia continues laughing, grouping at her belly and wiping away tears, then the red head gets up from the table, "Excuse me." And stalks off towards the house.

"Peyton dear, don't be upset!" Her dad calls after her, "Your mother didn't have her first kiss till she was twenty three!" Peyton blocks out her dad's attempts and Julia's laughter and steps into the house, slamming the door behind her.

Later, Peyton is sitting cross legged on the dining table, placing dominoes upright in a large spiral in front of her.

"Mind if I join you?" Suki walks up to the table and picks up a domino piece and places it in the mix.

"Sure, I guess."

"Thanks for calling me by my real name by the way." Her English is really good.

"No problem, it's a pretty name, Suki." She smiles at the teen who smiles back at the young woman.

beep beep

"Oh sorry that's my phone." Suki says apologetically.

"No please go ahead."

Suki flips open her cell phone, looks at the message and then rolls her eyes.

"What?" Peyton queries, slightly amused.

"Nothing really, just one of my friends from Japan that sent me a link to one of those Kira websites." She says, scrunching her nose in a distasteful way.

"Kira?" Peyton raises both her eyebrows in curiosity.

"You really don't know?" She questions, slightly surprised.

Peyton shakes her head no, and beckons for her to continue.

"Well, for the past month criminals have been dying left and right in Japan. All by heart attack."

"What? All by heart attack?" Peyton was now fully curious and Sinclair even more so.

"Yeah, and many people believe that someone is now looking out for them, like a god." Suki continues, but doesn't seem like she is too interested.

"Kira?"

"Yes, Kira."

"Hmm," Sinclair was now fully present, and fully interested "Suki do you mind sending me the link to that site?"

**wow hope you guys enjoyed this chapter I made it extra long. And for these resent two chapters I've really tried to capture the vulnerable side of Peyton, she's more humane, but I still really love Sinclair with all her Bad-assness XD**


End file.
